Special Song
by jaimi-or-jaemi
Summary: John wonders why Sherlock has not let him hear the violin lately. Part three of Miracles


Thank you a head of time to everyone who reviews!

Prompt for it: Johnlock

From: KendraDuvoa

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><p><em>John's POV<em>

In the weeks after Christmas and his love's return from the dead there had been several ups and downs, including when they had intentionally set his love's brother up with his assistant. One of the things that he particularly enjoyed was the music, the beautiful violin playing that his lover does. Most of it he had come to recognize as either professionals music or his own.

However recently his love had not been playing when he is home and had taken to turning off his computer so it cannot record anything he plays while he is working. Every time he tries to ask his flatmate about it, Sherlock would change the subject or just ignore him. A couple of times his lover had even used sex to side track him when he was trying to question him. He had given up asking roughly a week ago but found that he missed the music. At times when his flatmate was out for some errand or another he listens to the CDs that had sustained him the entire time he was gone, enjoying listening to the music.

Just before their three month marker, Sherlock informs him one night when he gets back from the clinic, "Next Tuesday you cannot accept any shifts at the clinic, and you need to wear your suit," but before he had a chance to respond the tall man went flouncing off to 221C where his lab is now set up.

Shaking his head, he decides to clean up the flat for a bit because it is beginning to look cluttered again. He is really not sure how Sherlock manages to make such a mess when he is so rarely home, but he has always excelled at it.

The next three days pass in a blur, and he awakes Tuesday morning to a kiss from his lover before he vanishes, telling him that he will be back in a few hours. After kissing him back, he lets the taller man take off before he rolls out of bed and decides to take a nice long hot shower. When he gets out of the shower he walks into their shared bedroom with just a towel wrapped around his hips. However he stops and stares when he spots a nice, dark blue bespoke suit that was too small for Sherlock lying across the bed.

Sitting on top of the jacket is a note, picking it up he reads it and smiles.

-John,

I realized you would not want to wear your funeral suit so I got you a new one.

Sherlock-

His smile expands as he runs his fingers over the fine material. It's made of the same sturdy but comfortable materials as Sherlock's suits. The suit itself is dark blue, however with it is matching light blue socks, pants, and button down shirt. Grinning, he just shakes head, and dresses in it. Enjoying the feel of the material against his skin, it's different than his normal type of material. Not long after he finishes dressing he goes to make himself some hot tea when he hears a knock at the door, sighing, he goes to check it to find Anthea at the door.

"Hello John, I am supposed to escort you," she tells him, looking between him and her phone.

Shaking his head he remarks, "Let me go turn the water off," as he turns and heads back upstairs for a moment, grabbing his coat against the March weather which is not quite winter or spring.

When he gets back downstairs, Anthea is speaking with Mrs. Hudson about something, the two women chuckling softly to each other.

"Ready, so can I ask where we are going or is this one of those moments?" he inquires.

She gives a shake of her dark-haired head, stating, "Nope, you know the drill."

"Sadly I do," he responds with a shake of his head in response, "well let's go."

The two of them get into the black car idling on the curb and he stares out the window blankly as the car goes. Despite the fact the both of them were dating Holmes brothers they still had next to nothing to speak of and had pretty much agreed to just continue ignoring each other instead.

Just a little over half hour later they were pulling up in front of a nice restaurant, and she glance away from her phone and out the window stating, "We're here, good day John."

"Have a nice day Anthea," he tells her as he slides out of the car and looks around, noticing that they are at a nice restaurant.

A moment later a tall man is standing next to him, "Doctor Watson?"

"Yes?" he replies looking at the man.

"If you will follow me," he intones motioning towards the door.

He nods, following the tall man through the building as the sleek car pulls away. Inside they make their way through the main room and to a flight of stairs to the second story. At the top of the steps they turn left and go to a room a few doors down. The tall man motions to it, bowing slightly before he turns on his heel and walks away.

Pushing the door open he slips in and looks around, freezing slightly when he spots Sherlock standing next to a small table that has been carefully laid out, and standing there with his violin tucked under his chin.

Slowly he makes his way over towards his lover and flatmate, watching the tall man as he does so.

Smiling at him, his lover motions towards one of the seats with the bow before starting to play, it is a new song, one he has not heard before. For the next little bit he merely sits there while he listens to the song, it is soft and gentle, reminding him of all the times they have curled up together and just been. After a bit it turns from soft to deeper sadder song, one that spoke of their time apart, of their loneliness while they could not be together, eventually it turned back to a lighter tone again. When he is done with the song, Sherlock bows towards him, still smiling, though there is something to that smile.

"Beautiful song, love, its new isn't it?" he murmurs as he looks at his tall lover.

"John, I have an important question for you," his lover states as he settles his violin onto a stand near the table before he bites his lip and kneels next to him. "I realize I am a pain in the ass, and we've only been together for a short while officially, but I want everyone to know your mine always, and there is no one else in the world that I would ever consider being with like this." The dark-haired man pauses, biting his lip again as he stares at him, "John would you do me the honor of marrying me? I realize…"

Before his lover has a chance to say anything more he finds himself hurling out of his seat to wrap himself around the taller man. Scattering kisses over every inch he can reach, "Of ," he kisses his left eye, "course," he kiss his right eye, "I" he kisses the edge of his lip, "will," he kisses across the bottom of his lip, "marry," he kisses the other side of his lip, "you," he puts his last kiss on his lips, a long deep kiss that ends up becoming more kissing.

He finally stops kissing him, just kneels there on the floor, arms wrapped tight around his lover who apparently is now his betrothed. This was definitely not what he expected three months ago, but it's perfect. Their relationship has never been normal, why would getting engaged be normal either.


End file.
